All in Good Time
by STRONG Writing
Summary: Castiel was never where he needed to be, at least not in with Dean. Cas' POV.


Castiel first met Dean on a cold day in December. He could remember it

as well as anything. The air had smelt of burning leaves and his breath

had puffed out his mouth in clouds of heat. Dean was walking a dog. He

always walked the dog this time. Every day. Castiel knew just by

looking at the man. He had a process.

Dean raised a hand to wave at Castiel when he saw the other man

watching him. It was an unusual response and it plucked at Castiel's

interest.

Dean shuffled in place and turned back to leave, whistling for the dog.

It followed, wagging a puffed tail through the air as it walked.

Castiel let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. It

dissappeared into the sky.

The third time Castiel saw Dean Winchester- for now he knew his name

-it was spring. Winter had been kind to Dean, softening his features

from the nights spent laying out by the fireplace. The leaved were

starting to push out of the trees and lace into the branches once more.

It was beautiful, but Castiel hardly noticed.

He watched as Dean shouted over the fence for his younger brother. 'Get

your damn dog out of the way, Sammy!'

Sam ran out of the house and shouted something in return. Castiel

didn't pay attention. Dean got into his Impala and slammed the door,

the sound hung in the air for a moment and everything froze. Dean met

eyes with Castiel. He grinned from across the street. Castiel sucked in

another breath of his cigarette and stared back. Dean settled into his

car and drove away. The world went on turning.

The seventh time Castiel saw Dean, there was a game on. Castiel wasn't

sure which.

He could remember it perfectly, watching the laugh lines on Dean's face

as Sam threw popcorn across the couch in his brother's direction. The

smell of candles floated over the smell of roasted meat from the

kitchen. Sam's fiancee was making turkey. Castiel was grateful to be

alive.

Dean smiled at Castiel, asked him questions. Castiel nodded his head in

reply. The dog on the rug lifted his head and looked at Sam with tired

eyes.

Dean's attention returned to the game.

The twelfth time Castiel stood next to Dean Winchester, the air was hot

and the lawn was wet beneath bare feet. Dean tossed a baseball through

the air. Sam caught it easily and chucked it back.

Castiel stood across the street.

'Cas!' Dean had shouted, he remembered it clearly, 'You're missing

out!' Castiel walked across the road. The dog barked, running about his

feet in it's elation.

The ball hit Castiel in the shin. He blinked in momentary shock before

looking back up. Dean was laughing. Sam was on the verge of tears.

Castiel was happy to be there.

The two-hundredth time Castiel saw Dean Winchester, he was thirty two

years old. There was a card in his mailbox, and a newspaper on his

porch. The air smelt like rain. Winter was coming, and he'd wrapped his

scarf tighter around his neck and let out a puff of air.

Dean pulled dead leaves and slush from his gutters, cursing in gutteral

tones at the 'damned things'. Castiel blinked and his eyelashes were

cold against his face.

The sky opened up, and rain came down by the bucketfull. Dean slipped

from his perch, landed on his back, and didn't make a move to get up.

Castiel sprinted to his yard, and shouted for Sam.

The two-hundred-and-sixth time Castiel saw Dean, he was trudging out of

the hospital. It wasn't a serious injury, and Sam was quick to thank

whatever god he could. Castiel was an athiest.

The three-hundredth time Castiel sat next to Dean was on New Year's

Eve. Dean's face was lit oddly by the lights in the bar. Sam had long

ago gone home. Castiel drowned out the noises to hear Dean speak.

'That's a year gone by.' He had said. 'Seems like a hundred.'

There was a comment from Sid, across the bar, how a near-death

experience can do that to a person. Castiel twitches impulsively. Dean

doesn't notice.

The music is shut down, faces turn to the television screens. Dean

turns away. Castiel watches the television. Sid comments on the

silence. He's immediately reprimanded.

Dean sucks down the rest of his beer and heads for the door.

The five-hundredth time Castiel sees Dean, it's a Thursday.

Dean's girlfriend Cassie is sitting behind a grand piano. She plays a

light melody Castiel doesn't recognize. Dean sits behind her on the

rug, lazily patting the head of Sam's dog. He smiles at her, and it's

so warm.

Castiel feels his stomach flip. He leaves the room.

The six-hundred-and-twentieth time Castiel is with Dean Winchester, the

windows are foggy. It's been raining for days now. Castiel doesn't find

it in himself to care. The band on Dean's finger has his complete

attention. Castiel can almost see the reflection of the ceiling fan

abovehead. Cassie is at the supermarket.

The seven-hundred-and-second time Castiel sees Dean, he feels a pull.

There's been a service, and many people cry. Castiel finds he doesn't

have the tears.

Dean is stepping to the beat of the music, in turn with Cassie

Winchester, and the rest of the world doesn't exist. Castiel's fists

work themselves into the tablecloth. He doesn't look away.

Sam sits beside him. His look is knowing, but he is silent. Castiel

enjoys his company.

The nine-hundredth time Castiel sees Dean Winchester, he cries.

There's an infant in her arms, and Dean looks at her. He's in love all

over again.

Castiel thinks he's happy. He isn't sure he can tell the difference

between happiness and sadness anymore. Sam holds his shoulder

reassuringly. Castiel isn't sure why. Dean doesn't notice.

The thousandth time Castiel sees Dean Winchester, he can't move.

Dean lays stiff on the cushion, eyes closed hours ago by the mortician.

Sam stands beside him. Castiel notes that he doesn't cry either. He

supposes they are similar in some respects. 'It was his heart.' He

hears the words in his head like it was yesterday.

Castiel stays long after the others have gone, the only exception is

Cassie. She sits by the coffin and sniffles. Castiel thinks they aren't

so different.

The thousand-and-first time Castiel sees Dean Winchester, he stares at

the stone and blinks.

Castiel doesn't say what he needs to, the words choke out of his throat

uncomfortably. He stands nearby. He loses track of how long.

'I'm sorry.' Sam says under his breath. Castiel shakes his head. 'He

was your brother.'

Sam leaves, eventually. He needs to go home to his wife.

Cassie had left long ago. Her daughter wouldn't stop shrieking in her

tiny little voice.

Castiel doesn't say it.

**.**

**I apologize for the spacing going on in this… I copy and pasted it from my Tumblr (if you want that message me or something, I dunno. More stuff goes on there than here every day, so). **


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